


Possession

by Devcon03



Series: Haven, Void and Beyond [5]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Body Modification, Dominance/submission, Established Relationship, Fisting, Genital Piercing, M/M, Spark Bond, Sticky Sex, Stretching, Unbeta'd, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devcon03/pseuds/Devcon03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a mark needs to remain to make it all real...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possession

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redseeker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redseeker/gifts).



> Written for Haven AU!verse, so there's absolutely _no_ canon to back this story up. 
> 
> Please check the warnings before reading. This fic hasn't been beta-read, so beware the Swedish syntax.

The lighting makes Starscream’s armour gleam. Devcon follows the swell of the cockpit with a silvery fingertip, pressing into a transformation seam, teasing it gently. There’s a hitch and Starscream moans quietly, trying to press into his touch. The hunter smirks and moves the finger away, denying him his wish.

Another sound is heard, and Starscream's interface panel slides back. His valve is wet, demanding attention, but Devcon won’t have any of that this cycle. He pinches an elegant wing-tip, causing the seeker to give a breathless groan. He continues to splay his fingers all over the curvy frame, enjoying himself while his optics feast upon the sight of the mighty Air Commander, all trapped beneath him. 

”Look at you,” he says, repeating the old line from the Pit, where he’d been pushing Starscream against their berthroom door, spreading him open, watching him take the punishing pleasure. ”All mine, perfectly mine. Slag, but you make a mech willing to commit crimes, did you know? Have him forget all decency and just get on with it, just trap you and fuck you until your vocals glitch and give out…”

Starscream moans raggedly, responds to the darkness in his vocals. He shutters his optics tightly, both indignant and proud, his face darkly tinted by embarrassment. Devcon knows how to play this game - the seeker is like the finest instrument, requiring the hands of a true master. Too bad Megatron never knew how to take care of the seeker. Devcon is quite sure no ’verse would escaped Decepticon supremacy if Megatron had ever understood, and figured out, how to spoil and to keep the seeker's interest fixed long enough to remain loyal – if not to the cause, then at least to Megatron himself.

”You like saying that,” Starscream murmurs softly and writhes, unable to move freely. 

Devcon lifts his helm and nods, watching his prefered prey with a predatory glow. The seeker pulls at the bonds holding him, restless beneath Devcon’s scrutinizing gaze. He can’t move much more than that, and it would be awkward if it weren’t for Devcon’s dirty words, constantly throwing him off balance. Devcon knows how much Starscream loves to hear these things, and keeps them coming, making sure that his precious bird can’t but give in and behave.

”Heh... ’Like’ is an understatement,” he replies. ”You belong to me, pretty bird. You _know_ you do, don't you...?" His tones is suddenly cold, ruthless. There's a growl in it, something too dark for anybot but Starscream to fully understand. "And if truly mine, you should be marked as such. The bracelet merely states facts, but every mark I leave upon your frame will eventually fade away, won’t it?”

Suddenly, a frown appears in Starscream's brow, and his uncertainty becomes visible. He lifts his helm, regarding Devcon with large optics. Through the bond pleading impressions reach the hunter - it doesn’t matter that the marks of ownership will disappear, not when Devcon promised so long ago to keep them coming. And as long as Devcon claims him, everything is all right, and it won't matter...

Only, it does.

The lingering, old pain still resides in his mate's core, even after all these years. It doesn't fade, no matter how often Devcon honours his promise. It's the shard's doing, all of it - it erases every rough touch, every sweet ache, and makes it impossible for Devcon to leave any permanent mark upon Starscream's frame. The seeker hides how much this throws him off balance, mainly because it makes him vulnerable, but Devcon feels that pain in his very components. 

”Hunter…?”

Starscream's vocals can't hide his insecurity, but Devcon offers him a reassuring look, and draws a deep intake to calm his own emotions. He then shifts between Starscream's open thighs, every movement balanced, calm and bold. He is Starscream's master, and his mate needs his strength and dominace. He won't fail him. Keeping his thoughts away from anything that will give his plans away, he moves his hands further down, grabbing those sleek thighs, opening them even further. 

Starscream's intakes hitch when Devcon's gaze goes to his bared valve. The seeker writhes, pulling at his bonds, but Devcon doesn't act upon his first instince. Instead, he controls himself. A drop of lubricant slides slowly down the protective folds, pearly pink. He marvels at how soft and supple the little valve looks, all smooth and searingly hot. Beneath him, all Starscream can do is to squirm. He keeps Starscream in suspense of his next move, enjoying the sight of his bound mate. 

When Starscream gives a high-pitched whine, he shows some mercy. His hand moves from an inner thigh to the little valve, stroking and rubbing it, but yet never penetrating it. 

”Gonna mark you, precious bird, and this time it won't go away," he says softly. ”That jewelry-shop? It has the most wicked toys I’ve seen in my life, and frag _me_... I'm old, seeker, and I thought I'd seen it all. Didn't even know half of the stuff in there existed. Heh.”

Starscream gasps as Devcon’s thick finger rubs over the valve’s exterior node, pressing it into the tender, sensitive plating. The hunter enjoys those little sounds, but in his processor, he's already planning his next move. That boutique is an endless source of inspiration, and more so the crafts-bots whose expertise is astonishing. From the moment they presented him with the idea, he knew it had to be done, if so only to finally have his seeker experience peace. It’s brutal, he muses, but his Starscream’s processor is wired differently from an Autobot's, and Primus save him but Devcon understands him all too well. 

Starscream starts squirming, pulling at the ropes. ”Mmm… Yeah? So what are you… Aah, w-what are you… Nnngh, frag _yes_... What are you gonna do?” His question is punctuated by small moans, broken pleas and the unmistakable sound of desire. 

Devcon licks his lips, raking his optics over the curved, gorgeously formed frame. Starscream is a pretty bot all over, adorned with a beauty that gives him an upper hand in most situations. His speed, his broad shoulders, his strength and that sleek itty bitty waist of his - weapons in disguise. It's dangerous to forget who this bot is, and down right lethal to think him weaker because of his pleasing model. Devcon rubs the node harder, giving the 'Con what he wanted in the first place. There's a knowing gleam in the red gaze, and both know that the little glitch is already working his magic upon Devcon.

”Gonna mark you," Devcon says, smirking, "right _here_.”

Starscream’s stunned silence says it all. Devcon releases the tender node, only to pinch it fondly. It's all wet, so sensitive. All _his_. The seeker doesn't protest, and Devcon detects neither doubt or alarm when he pushes into their bond. There's nothing but trust being transmitted, and it makes his limbs all weak. He teases the little node, suppressing a tiny gasp as his spike presses against his panel. He wants to cover the seeker, wants to enter him and fuck him senseless, but first things first... 

Tilting the Starscream’s hips slightly, he strokes the folds and swipes a thumb over the spike-housing. It's hot to the touch, vibrating gently under his fingertip. The seeker shutters his optics and pants loudly, fighting the urge to pressurise his spike. Devcon regards him with darkened optics, toying with him, making it even harder for him to keep it sheated. In the end, Starscream manages to stay in control of himself, and seeks out Devcon's gaze, a look of triumph in his face. His intakes are coming fast, shallow. Following Devcon's commands, obeying him, means far more than the pleasure it brings. He belongs to Devcon, is his to use as it fits the hunter.

Devcon flashes Starscream a wicked grin as the thought reaches him, nodding. He then spreads the seeker's valve, touching its rim. Starscream moans thickly, arching, literally offering himself in a show of desperate need. His submission is a thing of beauty, has always been. The fact that the great Decepticon Air Commander has chosen Devcon as his master is a source of pride for the hunter. It's not a treat, what he was given, but a gift that he will always honour. He knows the profound meaning of it, and how much it means. This is a part of Starscream not even _Megatron_ could claim as his own, simply because the warlord never knew how to bind the seeker to himself in such a way to keep him willing, and loyal both. 

He moves his fingers over Starscream's interface components- his valve and port, the aching spike housing. It draws a series of small gasps from the seeker, makes him pull at his bonds. Devcon murmurs dirty things under his breath, hands heavy upon Starscream's trembling frame. He watches the seeker's face closely, then revs his engines loudly, drawing Starscream's attention back to him. With the precision of a killer, he closes in upon, and pushes into his mate's firewalls. Starscream shudders and lets him through without any resistance, moaning softly. No, there's no doubt whom he belongs to. 

”Is it good?” 

Starscream flutters his wings prettily, biting his lower lip. He offers a tiny nod that's quickly followed by the sweetest groan Devcon has ever heard. The sheer amount of trust that radiates from Starscream's mind is enough to make the hunter's knees weak, and he is suddenly aware of the excited humming of his mate's spark, pulsing in rhythm with his own. The knot of lust in his tank tightens and he growls softly, sending a slow, deep pulse of bliss through the bond. Starscream cries out, taking the processor-shattering pleasure, his frame so tense, all taut. He doesn't return the favour once it's over - Devcon would have given him instructions otherwise. He sobs under his breath when Devcon rewards him for his obedience with pinching his outer node again and again. Soon he is squirming, and his intakes grow laboured. 

He is a masterpiece, truly. Devcon has always admired him - it's hard _not_ to, seeing the mech is strong of built, all sleek, and prettier than a femme with his curves. Then, of course, he also happens to be vicious and arrogant, selfish, a mean mech in every aspect. It only makes Devcon desire him even more, though. His hunter programming demands such qualities in a bot, and in the darkness of their berthroom, he tells the seeker how beautiful he is, just like this - all bound and helpless, his to take.

His words, oh so dirty, would at any other time have been insulting. Now, however, they have a lovely impact upon Starscream’s state of mind. Devcon makes sure to keep the stream of words coming along, purring harder, rubbing the exterior node until it aches so good. The seeker is lost in pleasure, his intakes broken, his valve deliciously slick. There's lubricant seeping down his little aft, and Devcon leans over him, his fingers teasing playfully.

”Tell me who you belong to, Starscream,” he demands. ”Be a good seeker now…”

”What…?” Starscream’s optics flare and he scowls, looking perfectly annoyed. ” _Frag off_ , Autobot slime. I don’t belong to anybot.” 

”…Is that so?”

” _Yes!_ ”

Starscream’s snarl makes Devcon’s engines rev loudly. He shakes his helm, then pushes his carpus fully against the little node, pressing down in a circular movement. Starscream is fighting him, just like expected. Starscream wants to admit the truth, but it takes skill and finesse to draw the words out of him, and like always, there's a charged momentum between them as they reach this point. The seeker may be owned, but he is strong-willed and volatile, a proud mech that will not go down easily or without a fight. And he is fighting, all right, pulling at the wire-rope that binds him to the berth, sharp denta bared in defiance. 

Here, there can be no lies. This is what defines them, and Devcon's programming responds to Starscream's desire to be broken. Starscream hisses when he splays his palm over the cockpit, watching Devcon closely. Now, how to break him...? The possibilities are many. He could use raw strength to dominate the seeker, or use his spike to give him a punishing, rough fuck. He could slap the little valve until he howls and begs him to stop. He could do so many things, but of all the options, he chooses the one that will have Starscream tremble in need. 

"I think I need to teach you a little lesson, 'Con..." The sound of his vocals, all dark and threatening, have the desired effect on Starscream. "This valve belongs to me and me only, 'Con. You know it it does, and you can fight against my mastery as much as you want, but you _will_ give in when I demand it. Unless you wish to be punished, of course... Hmm, could it be that you need to be disciplined?”

His wicked words, meant to tease and throw Starscream out of balance, make the seeker flush. His prey is perfectly evil - he's a killer, a brutal warrior. Not an easy prey to take down, but Devcon's word triggers his need to submit. Now his emotions are conflicted - a part of him desperately wants to bow before Devcon, another demands him to keep fighitng. Devcon growls and gives him a cold, mean smirk. They've done this before, and Starscream knows that the longer he fights the hunter's dominance, the sweeter the pleasure-pain will be. This time will be no exception, and Starscream trembles under his gaze. He is rewarded with a cruel, cocky grin.

”Oh, _really?_ Does my Commander crave to be reminded of his place? Well, I don't mind that, but I should spank you, until you howl. The problem is that I'd be forced to untie your thrusters… Mmm, no. Not that. Something else, then. Something _better._ ”

Starscream watches him with blazing optics, whines, and shakes his helm in denial. When Devcon looks into his mind, he's met by lust and endless need. He pinches the Seeker’s little node again, devouring the sight of his mate’s restless struggle. 

”Perfect little thing…"

"Autobot!"

"So you keep saying," Devcon purrs. "But this Autobot outsmarted you, oh mighty Commander. Here, you are nothing but a pleasure-drone, and no bot will save you from being used like whore. Face it, seeker - I have you right where I want you, bound and helpless. And, you are mine to use and fuck until you sob, mine to draw screaming overloads from… Slag, but that sounds nice, doesn't it?”

The Seeker nods eagerly, tilting his hips, offering himself in a blatant display of want before he realises what he’s doing. His optics widen in honest alarm at Devcon’s excited growl, and when he tries to close his thighs, he experiences the loss of control like never before. He’s bound and helpless, and resistance is futile. He knows, from the bottom of his brillaint processor, that he is at Devcon’s mercy. His young spark swells at the notion, and the brightly coloured cockpit practically glows from within. There’s nothing but dark desire echoing in the depths of his CPU, and he cannot hide it. 

Devcon laughs softly. "See...? The more you struggle, the sweeter your downfall." If looks could kill, Devcon would have been an empty shell. Starscream's snaps after his hand when it comes too close to his face. "Now, let's see how you’ll take the promised punishment. Gonna stretch you, 'Con, to see how many fingers you can take. Look at them… So big compared to that tight, and neat little valve of yours. It's a good thing that my Commander's already wet, right?”

Starscream bites his lower lip, staring at Devcon’s hand, taking in the silvery ridges of his fingers as they gleam in the dim light. Each finger is big enough to provide a nice sensation of being filled, but four-five of them…? He swallows hard, and his valve suddenly tightens, twitching. He shakes his helm, but there’s no way to hide the wanton lust burning in his fuel-lines. Devcon shifts, drawing back until he can lean down and lick a thruster’s upper half, deliberately failing to breach the little valve as promised. Starscream growls, wiggling his hips, but Devcon ignores him and concentrates on the sleek thruster instead.

Impatient as always, the seeker huffs at the loss of stimuli and kicks with his thruster, trying to make Devcon change his mind. Devcon, on the other hand, won't be denied. Using hands and thighs, he merely pins Starscream down and goes on with his business. Neither oaths or demanding snarls makes him change his mind, and he enjoys himself with caressing the thruster with light touches. 

He loves how delicate yet strong Starscream's thrusters are. Compared to his own, they seem small and almost dainty. Not that anybot would dare to call Starscream ”dainty”, at least not to his face. The seeker’s weapons would take care of such disrespect immediately. He chuckles and continues, moving his fingers all over the curve of the toe, admiring the fine work. He wonders, fleetingly, how it must have been to behold a trine of seekers from his mate’s Cybertron. Quite the view, he guesses as he makes himself deaf for Starscream’s seething curses. 

A light kiss to the side of the thruster quietens Starscream down. Devcon blows on the kissed area, and concentrates his attention to the finely crafted turbine. A quick lick is followed by a sharp intake and the sound of claws ripping fabric. He carries on, planting small, suckling kisses to the whole area, making sure to keep it sweet and soft. Despite Starscream’s preference of rough play, he often melts when being pleasured this way, and after a while his intakes are coming faster and shallow, his frame writhing.

/Comm: That’s it, sweet bird. Let me take care of you properly…/

”Y-Yeah? Go on then, _worship_ me,” the seeker replies with a sneer, optics shuttered tightly, claws promptly cutting into the berth. His vocals are rough and dark, a growl more than anything else. Devcon knows his mate – to the fierce mech there’s nothing more arousing than being worshiped, albeit being owned comes pretty close too. A combination is enough to make him moan in bliss. Devcon suckles the turbine, his glossa licking the tender plating inside, wetting it lewdly. Starscream writhes and tries to pull away, the attention to the delicate plating too intense, but Devcon captures the thruster in both hands and keeps him pinned in place. The seeker arches and gasps, forced to endure until he accepts that he isn't in charge. 

The smell of fresh lubricant is intoxicating, and it doesn't take much more before Starscream's moans grow high-pitched and laboured. When his frame tensing with each lick, Devcon growls and bites down, denta grazing the metal. Starscream howls and bows his back, cursing as the hunter's glossa reaches deep enough to lick at unmapped nodes and sensors. Unable to hold back, Starscream comes hard and long. Devcon watches the elegant lines of his mate's frame as he slumps back onto the berth. He suckles the bitten area gently, enjoying Starscream's desperate whine. Starscream is a mess, panting harshly. His optics shine too-bright, clearly interested, now giving Devcon his undivided attention. 

Devcon kisses the toe again and turns to the other thruster, completely ignoring the indignant look in his mate’s face. This time, however, he trails a hand upwards, fingers reaching his valve. He rubs it slowly, spreading it gently. Soothed, Starscream now lifts the thruster all by himself, pointing his toe. He's all languid, momentarily made tame. Devcon slides a finger into the heavenly tight valve, causing his mate to choke upon a curse. Devcon licks and nips the thruster, purring under his breath, his finger raking over the sensitive membrane of Starscream's valve. The seeker angles his hips, trying to get more of that finger, but Devcon pulls away, making himself deaf to the annoyed snarls.

Starscream changes his tactics with a tiny sigh, falling back to the berth, moving his helm to the side. Devcon nuzzles the turbine and licks it, his glossa flat, tormenting him sweetly. Starscream shudders and moans, but doesn’t move away. Devcon rewards him with another finger, sliding deep, pumping rhythmically. It’s a lovely stretch to a valve that has already come. Starscream mewls, fighting the urge to impale himself onto the ridged, thick fingers. Devcon continues to worship the thruster as he grinds slowly, stretching Starscream with care. It’s a different kind of torture and Starscream takes it so very, very well. 

He keeps lapping, controlling the pleasure and thus, his mate. Starscream murmurs sweet nothings, his face the perfect picture of rapture. Glossa out, optics tightly shuttered, he looks just about ready to be ravished. Devcon doesn’t warn him before pressesing four fingertips into his neat valve, stretching its rim. It’s a bold move, and Starscream’s reaction is the expected one - he throws his helm back and pushes down on the fingers, desperately begging for more. This time Devcon moves with him, sissoring his fingers as they glide an inch forward to the second ridge, but he doesn’t stop there. Letting go of the thruster, he pins the seeker's hips down before using considerable strength to push further in. He moves his wrist back and forth, rotating it slowly. A series of panting, broken cries tells him he’s doing perfectly well.

”Mmm, that’s right. Now, splay your thighs, seeker.” His vocals grow darker as he watches his fingers stretch the valve, fully expecting to be obeyed. Starscream groans, now clinging onto the bars, scratching them with his claws. This time, despite his earlier defiance, he obeys quickly. He presses his thighs to the side, cycling deep intakes. He gives Devcon a needy look before keening softly - he's ready. Devcon nods, finally placated, and rotates his wrist again, pushing deeper. A moment later, he slips his fingers past the second ridge. A pained yelp is heard, and that's his cue. He holds still, marveling at Starscream's ability to take equal amounts of pleasure and pain, hissing softly when the calipers of the valve presses down on his fingers. 

Starscream cycles trembling sigh, cockpit heaving with each intake. He is bound and stuffed, _willing._ Devcon finally moves, sliding his fingers out before pumping them into the maddening heat again, listening for those sweet sobs of relief. Starscream's mind is wide open - it's so good it hurts, but it's not enough, and he wants more, craves the stinging pleasure. His passion is beautiful to behold, and Devcon shudders as he leans forward. He looms over his prey, face stern, his features set into a grim and vicious scowl, but his gaze is intent. Starscream licks his lips, hissing oaths and endearments alike, taking his punishment with abandon. 

Another twist to his hand, and Starscream's valve gives in, allowing Devcon to move past the third ridge, his thumb gliding along, making it five fingers. Starscream gasps, then howls shrilly. He convulses, scratching the wall as his vocals reaches a pitch Devcon has never heard before. The little valve spasm around his hand, all _magnificently_ stretched, trying to push him out. The look upon Starscream’s face makes Devcon growl in furious want. His mate is lost in bliss, optics wide open, clouded by the processor-shattering sensation of being _full_. He flexes his fingers, rubbing and pressing in and _up_ , drawing pain-laced pleasure as the ridges of his fingers push into soft membranes and cluster-nodes both. Starscream gasps, his valve rippling as a second overload is ripped from his very core.

It’s the deep, throaty quality of Starscream’s vocals and the flickering of his optics that convince Devcon to move on. Starscream is still coming when he reaches to his side, where a thin, weapon-like gadget lies on a box black as midnight. Beneath him, Starscream groans, internals rippling. Devcon bites his lip until he can taste energon, using the pain to focus. He needs to be in control for what's coming, has to master himself lest he wants to damage his mate. He intakes softly, then lifts the gun, inspecting it closely. He puts it down between his thighs, thinking of what it will do, and suddenly his engines are revving loud enough to make Starscream stirr. The seeker moans, blindly seeking contact, having learnt long ago to associate the sound of Devcon's engines with pleasure and safety. 

Starscream has reached the emotional state in which he's completely relaxed, pliable and soft. It's imperative to proceed with care, but Devcon ends up battling his base-coding and the urge to cover his mate and fuck him hard. He wins, of course. There is no room for losing control like that, not when Starscream has put his frame and mind, his very spark, into his hands. He nods, then moves his left hand, sliding his fingers carefully out of his mate's tender valve. Starscream hisses, thighs trembling, lolling his helm back and forth, whimpers barely audible. 

”That’s it," Devcon murmurs. "Such a _good_ seeker,” he cooes as Starscream mewls, lost in his own world, yet aware enough to hear the praise. Inside his precious bird, nothing but utter trust, wicked love and loyalty remains. 

Devcon lifts his hand - it’s drenched with his mate’s lubricant. He groans and splays his palm over the swell of Starscream's cockpit, feeling the warmth underneath. As he moves his hand away, a hand-print remains. The hunter tilts his helm and chuckles, then dips a couple of fingers into the little valve again, gathering more lubricant. Starscream sighs, shifting with a dreamy look upon his face. Devcon writes his designation over the sprawling seeker's armour, smirking like a glitch. The glyphs are fully visible, and the writing that comes over the cockpit, more so. He imagines what Starscream will say when he notices what Devcon has written all over him, with his own lubricant even. He laughs softly and strokes his palms over his mate’s heated frame, possessive as ever. Starscream pushes into his touch, languid and deliciously tired, optics shuttered.

_Perfect_ , Devcon thinks. _Time to proceed, hunter._

Starscream barely stirs when Devcon once again spreads him open. The protective folds have a pink hue, and when he looks at the tiny hole, there's some lubricant pooling at the rim. He strokes his thumb over it, collecting some lubricant before casting a fond look at the seeker's exterior node. He pinches it between his fingertips, wetting it properly. Next step is easy - he reaches for the gun, holding it so Starscream can see it. He turns the gadget on, fingers keeping the valve bared. The gun's razor-sharp laser is thin as a needle. It casts a brilliant, red light that manages to capture his mate's interest. The seeker lifts his helm and unshutters his optics, giving Devcon a quizzical look.

”What's that for?” There’s a faint note of alarm in Starscream's vocals. Devcon growls softly, keeping his mind open for the Seeker to read. Starscream shutterblinks, soothed, seeking his gaze searchingly. 

”This?" Devcon's vocals are dark, rough even. "This would be what will mark you as mine, pretty bird. It will pierce you-,” and he pinches the node, ”right here…”

The seeker swallows, watching the gun-like gadget with round optics, wetting his lips with the tip of his glossa. The bond is suddenly filled with fear, and doubt. Devcon hums softly, sending a gentle pulse of calm through the bond. He shifts somewhat, drawing Starscream’s attention back to his face. 

”It’s going to heal,” Starscream protests unhappily. ”The shard will see to it.”

Devcon shakes his helm, carefully rubbing the sensitive node, keeping the soft folds away from it. ”No, mate… Not _this_ time, it won’t. 

”But _how_...?”

The look in Starscream's face is spark-shattering. Devcon knows that look from a time when no spark burnt in his mate's cockpit. He growls softly under his breath, then surrounds Starscream's mind, his presence confident and unyielding, dominating. There _will_ be a permanent mark, he reassures Starscream through their bond, and there's no room for believing in the opposite. The seeker shudders, then relaxes. He shutters his optics, willing himself to trust Devcon. 

”Do it,” he whispers, his face peaceful. When Devcon doesn’t comply, he moves his helm to the side, baring his vulnerable neck cabling in submission, hiding his face against a shoulder. ”…Please?” 

The soft plea breaks the spell, and Devcon allows himself a pleased smile. ”Open your thighs and relax," he says next. "I don’t want to do harm, Dancer. And, when I say so, draw a deep intake and exhale when it starts to hurt. It’s vital that you follow my orders, is that clear?”

Starscream nods, just once, and presses his thighs to the sides, angling his hips. Devcon revs his engines in appreciation and lifts the gun, inspecting the tiny blade-like needle. He switches the laser off, and lowers his hand. Starcream’s wings tremble involuntarily as he positions the gun, firmly pushing into the node. Devcon regards his mate with dimmed optics, flooding Starscream's core with the wild, consuming and possessive love he feels. 

”Hey… Look at me, sweet bird.” It’s not a question, and Starscream keens softly under the weight of the strength Devcon possesses. He does as he’s told, turning his helm to face Devcon. ”This is all for you,” the hunter murmurs. ”I will modify you, Starscream. Gonna leave my own brand where no bot can see. It will hurt, but once it’s done, you’ll have a mark that’s staying for good. Do you understand the meaning of it?”

Starscream shudders sweetly, unable to answer him. He’s nervous, feels excited over the notion of having his frame altered by the hunter. It's a sign of ownership that will, if Devcon’s telling the truth, define their relationship and take it a step beyond. Elation fills him - to no longer be _his_ possession… He looks at his wings, watching the brands with narrow optics. He remembers the pain and the sickening _loyalty_ he once felt for the bot responsible for putting his mark there. It's embarrassing, how eager he’d been to let the old fool put his hands upon his wings and mark him for eternity. The brands will never go away, but neither will Devcon, and suddenly he’s relieved.

Tension bleeds out of his system, leaving his processor in a state of dazed calm. He evens out his intakes, feeling... good. He remains relaxed, this time for real. At Devcon’s silent probing, he tears his gaze away from his wings and looks at Devcon. Their minds are blending and he has the fleeting sensation of looking at his own face. The hunter regarding him curiously, awaiting his consent. Optics burning brightly, Starscream licks his dry lips and mouths a single word - _yours_. 

Devcon bites back a groan and steadies his hands, making sure that the angle is correct. He holds Starscream’s gaze for the longest time, then swallows hard. ”Mate?” His vocals are soft and commanding. The Seeker holds his breath, and a thousand suns die while he waits.

” _Now!_ ”

It only takes one try - one processor-shattering shot, and it’s already over. Starscream's hoarse shout echoes around them, but he doesn’t move an inch. As the pain rules everything else out, he forces himself to obey and keep still, just as promised. Devcon moves quickly. Starscream is in agony and the tiny wound won’t stay open without help, as thin as it is. The second box to his left holds the jewel he has picked – a ring of smooth, black metal, that will stand out against the soft grey of Starscream's valve. 

Starscream flinches when Devcon touches his valve, sharp teeth clenched. A strangled snarl escapes him, but he endures the hunter’s touch and the painful sensations as something is pushed trough his aching node. He presses the back of his helm onto the berth, keening whilst the piercing is fastened and secured. The little piercing makes a loud, clicking noise as the ends come together, melting and merging. 

It's done. Devcon strokes Starscream’s shivering thighs, face filled with deep emotion, his nimble fingers trembling. ”Dancer…? Sweet bird, look at me.” 

The seeker unclenches his hands, gasping for air, staring at nothing. It takes him a moment before he can manage to do as asked, but when he does, Devcon's there, kissing the pain away. Their minds are still made one, and the hunter shares the agony with him, making it bearable. Starscream sobs into the kiss and nips the hunter’s glossa, unable to communicate in any other way. _It’s all right,_ Devcon whispers through the bond, accepting the slight sting without complains. Anything that will draw the attention away from the tender node is a good thing, truly, and he makes sure to soothe his mate.

When the sobs subside and Starscream's intakes are calm enough, Devcon strokes his helm with gentle fingertips, kissing the small crack on his forehelm before pulling away. Starscream turns his face, nuzzling and licking his palm blindly, wings fluttering against the cool sheets. The sight makes Devcon's spark spin in his chest. When he speaks up, his rough vocals are made soft by tenderness. 

”The piercing will serve as a constant reminder of whom you belong to, Dancer. You will ache for a bit, because it's a tiny wound right now. That will go away, as always, leaving the ring behind. It's designed to last forever, made of the same metal as your bracelet. Discret, but permanent. A symbol no bot but I can unlock and dislodge from your frame. It's there to stay," he murmurs. "Does this please you, Pet?” 

Starscream’s shutters his optics, unable to answer for the longest time. Devcon shifts carefully between his thighs, stroking the seeker's side as the pain grows weaker with each passing moment. His touch is devoted, light, meant to draw sweetness rather than heat. He closes the distance between them, watching the raw emotions displayed in Starscream's flushed face. After a while, Starscream nods. Next he presses his face against Devcon's chassis, hiding, seeking comfort, whispering softly.

”Devcon, my… m-my _Master_.”

Devcon kisses the black helm in sheer joy. Devotion, as sweet and raw as Starscream's admission, makes his spark expand. A sense of pride floods the bond - whereas he prides himself for being strong enough to dominate his mate, Starscream prides himself for being owned and loved, and held above everything else. He is worshiped, truly. It doesn't get better than this, and Starscream sighs in contentment. He nuzzles Devcon's chestplate, licking the patch of armour that is warmer than the rest. Below, hiding like a radiant sun, the hunter's spark responds with a soft humming. 

He works the tension out of Starscream's frame with warm palms, kissing his helm over and over again, purring loudly. There is no hurry, and the seeker lies limp in Devcon's embrace, allowing himself to be pampered after as the pain becomes nothing worse than a dull ache. It's satisfying, and highly important, this aftercare - it grounds the both of them to come down from the high. 

The touch of dedicated fingertips, gentle and soothing, help Starscream to relax his thighs. Devcon regards his mate’s darkly tinted faceplates with a fond smile, all pleased. Carefully, as not to draw pain, he cups his hand over the aching valve. He presses around the tender plating, drawing a surprised little gasp from Starscream. 

”Can you feel it?”

Starscream nods, worrying his lower lip with a fang. He looks curious, pulling at the bonds lightly as he wiggles his hips. Devcon nods and reaches up, freeing him immediately at this silent request. The seeker rolls his shoulders while Devcon shifts, giving him some space to move. Starscream has a concentrated look upon his face, pushing his aft down onto the berth. When the dull ache doesn’t increase, he sneaks a hand further down, placing it over Devcon’s own. He moans quietly, but it's a sound of approval. 

The hunter moves his hand away and Starscream isn’t late to examine the new addition to his frame. There's ache, but nothing like before. A throb, nothing else. He cocks his helm in wonder and holds the little ring between his claws. It's all smooth, glides easily when he pulls at it. A sound of discomfort is heard and then, silence. 

Devcon counts ten beats before Starscream speaks again.

”It won’t go away?” 

He's talking about the tiny hole in his node, and how the shard might take this from him as well. Devcon leans over Starscream again, gliding his thrusters along his mate’s sleeker ones. The seeker follows his every movement with serious optics, awaiting his answer. Devcon looks down between them - the ring looks so pretty nestled against the node. His engines revs, and his fingers find their way down to the seeker's valve to play with it. Starscream swallows hard, locking optics with him, suddenly afraid. He trembles and gasps as Devcon strokes the ring, pulling lightly. 

The hunter's vocals are rough, all mean, putting an end to Starscream's distress, to the fear of losing the marks of love and possession the hunter leaves upon his frame. 

” _Never_.” 

*~*~*


End file.
